Page 19 of Dad Bod's Daring December

“Easy, Eddie,” he says, his tone light but laced with menace. “You don’t want her getting hurt, do you?”

Edward freezes, his eyes locked on me.

I shake my head, tears blurring my vision. “Edward?—”

“Quiet,” the larger man barks, his grip tightening as he drags me toward the door.

“Razor, don’t do this,” Edward says again, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. I see the desperation in his eyes, the helpless fury of a man pushed too far.

Razor smirks, his finger twitching on the trigger. “Too late for second chances, Eddie.”

I’m hauled outside into the biting cold, swallowed by the night, forced from the warmth of the house and the safety of Edward’s arms.

Chapter 9

Edward

My heart pounds a relentless drumbeat in the oppressive silence as Ember is dragged from the room. Every instinct screams at me to follow, but I force myself to stay put. Logic rules now, not emotion. If I rush into this blind, I’ll be no good to her. If one hair on her head is harmed, though, these fuckers will pay.

The tension in the air is electric, pressing down like a storm about to break. I was relaxing on the sofa with Ember in my arms only minutes ago. Now, the world has turned upside down. I need a minute to think, to form a plan, but the growing hostility in Razor’s eyes tells me I may not have that luxury.

Razor stands in the center of the room, the muzzle of his pistol aimed squarely at me, his finger twitching on the trigger like he’s itching for a reason to squeeze. His eyes are sharp, calculating. He’s a predator who enjoys toying with his prey.

“Look at you,” he sneers, his voice carrying a dangerous calm. “Big, bad Eddie, protector of damsels in distress. Not doing such a great job, are you?”

I keep my hands at my sides, my body deliberately loose despite the anger coiling inside me like a spring. “Let her go,” I say evenly, every muscle in my body ready to strike.

Razor chuckles, low and menacing. “You’re not in a position to make demands, Eddie. Not anymore.” He gestures after Ember, the motion deliberate, taunting. “Besides, she doesn’t seem like your type. Too fiery. She’ll burn you out in no time.”

“Well, if this isn’t just the best Christmas yet. Razor, baby, you sure know how to treat a lady. That bitch looked like she wanted to fight, but I’ll wait until we get her back to the clubhouse to play with her.”

My gaze flies to Rebecca as she saunters into the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She looks the same as always—poised, perfectly coiffed, and dripping with disdain. But the cruel smirk on her face tells me she’s taken her descent into Razor’s world as a badge of honor.

Razor’s grin stretches wide, his teeth bared in a grotesque semblance of affection before he pulls her to him. Their lips meet with an audible squelch that has my gut twisting in disgust.

I cast a cold glance at Rebecca as Razor preens under her attention. “If you could refrain from swapping spit with that walking petri dish, I might keep my dinner where it belongs.”

She’s across the room in a flash, her hand cracking against my cheek. The slap is meant to wound, but I’m beyond her brand of hurt.

“That was the first and last time, Rebecca,” I say with deadly calm, my eyes boring into hers. “Next time, I’ll hit back. I’ve never hurt a woman in my life, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

Her eyes flicker with a hint of fear before she turns on her heel and sidles back to Razor.

My gaze flickers briefly to the doorway Ember was dragged through, silently willing her to fight, to hold on.

“Too quiet, Eddie,” Razor says, cutting through the silence like a blade. “Makes me wonder what you’re thinking. Let’s go over your options, shall we? Door number one: stay, and your girlfriend pays the price. Door number two: ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after.”

“Let me make one thing clear,” I bite out. “Lay one finger on Ember, and I’ll fucking end you.”

Rebecca laughs, the sound sharp and grating. “You’re all talk. Always have been.” She steps closer, close enough that I can smell the cheap perfume masking the stench of cigarettes and liquor. “You couldn’t even keep me happy, remember? That’s why I left. I needed a real man.”

I smile, slow and deliberate, showing how little her words affect me. “And yet, here you are, still trying to get a rise out of me. Guess Razor’s not quite the ‘real man’ you thought, huh?”

The smile drops from her face, replaced by a flash of fury. Before she can respond, movement outside draws all of our attention.

My heart leaps as I catch sight of Ember through the window. She’s fighting, her movements wild and desperate as she struggles against the man holding her.

Razor’s aim lowers, his attention momentarily distracted.

---